In Vino Veritas
by SilentG
Summary: Drunken confessions then falling into bed, kinda. Who knew that she would be the one to finally crack? Two-parter, WAFF, post-Loyalty. B/A. Now three parts and COMPLETE.
1. IN VINO VERITAS

**Author:** SilentG  
**Title:** In Vino Veritas  
**Fandom:** LO:CI  
**Pairing:** B/A  
**Rating:** T/M  
**Spoilers:** Post-Loyalty, but no real spoilers, unless you absolutely know nothing about that episode.  
**Archive:** Anywhere – no need to ask – just attribute, and let me know if possible  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine  
**Summary:** Drunken confessions then falling into bed, kinda. Who knew that she would be the one to finally crack?

**A/N 1:** Don't know why I've been craving writing from Goren's POV of late. Maybe it's because Eames has been looking so pretty lately, I want to enjoy him enjoying her.

~.~.~.~.~

**CHAPTER ONE: IN VINO VERITAS**

She showed up at his door looking so beautiful she took his breath away.

**o.o.o.o.o**

Alex had been on a date that evening – that much he knew, because she'd told him so when they'd spoken on the phone that morning.

He talked to her pretty much every day, now that – yeah. They hadn't figured out their job situations yet, but – _yeah_. Every day, he thought about bringing up the small little issue of him being in love with her, and pretty sure she was in love with him, and the whole thing about them not needing to be alone any more, but he was afraid of it being weird. Which he should be used to, except being jobless and weird is different from being gainfully employed and weird. Yeah.

It was a bit after midnight, and he'd just come back from showering and brushing his teeth, after spending the whole night on the sofa wondering. What was she wearing, where did he take her, what was he like, what did she think of him? Would he kiss her, would she go home with him? Would she think of _him_? Bobby him, not nameless date him.

He'd asked her to call him when she got home, on the pretence of being concerned about her safety. She just laughed. He'd held his cell phone in his hand all night anyway.

**o.o.o.o.o**

When he opened the door after her soft knock, her visage actually literally took his breath away. He stood there staring at her, and trying not to gasp for air.

Her hair was up, and diamond studs twinkled in her ears. Her tiny diamond pendant nestled in its usual place in the hollow of her throat. She was dressed in a Chinese red shot silk cocktail dress with three-quarter length fitted sleeves, a fitted bodice with a low cowl neck (that revealed black lace and the curves of her creamy breasts when he leaned over ever so slightly), an A-line skirt and a kerchief hemline. Her shoes were black patent open-toed Mary-Janes with high, square heels. Her skin and eyes were glowing. She was wearing a subtle floral scent; lilac, rose and gardenia, with a hint of lavender and musk.

She was also very drunk.

"Hi Bobby," she said, softly and slightly slurred. She had a wide, beautiful smile on her face, and she seemed almost to be leaning into him as they stood close to each other in his doorway – he couldn't resist reaching out and grasping her forearms. She had a diamond tennis bracelet on her slim wrist. Her skin was so soft, and she was _so beautiful!_ As she tottered into his apartment, he kept his hands on her arms, leading her.

"What are you doing here, Alex?" She inexplicably veered away from the sofa where he thought they were headed, and he started following her until he realised her destination was the washroom.

"Just a second, Bobby," she shouted unnecessarily loudly through the closed door. He couldn't help grinning. She was here, radiant, happy to see him, not in bed with her date. He chuckled at her inebriation as he closed and locked the door and straightened up the living room. After the toilet flushed, he thought he heard the sound of brushing teeth.

When Alex came out, her face was washed, and she was dangling her shoes from the fingers of one hand in a desultory way. She stepped very close to him and looked up. "Can I stay with you tonight?" Her face was hopeful and vulnerable.

Suddenly a hundred horrible thoughts flew through his mind. "Alex, are you alright?" He asked, frowning. "Did – you didn't – was your date OK? He, didn't, uh, hurt you or anything?" This last he said to her back as she moseyed into his bedroom, and even as he fretted about all the things that could have brought her to his door after a fancy date, he felt his body respond to the mental image of her in his bed.

"No," she said wistfully, "I just had him drop me here at the end of the night instead of at my place." She seated herself opposite _his_ side of the bed, and did his heart actually skip a beat, watching her casually (if somewhat clumsily) remove her jewellery and drop it into her small beaded clutch? _This is how it should be every night._ Her skin seemed dewy and touchable as she unpinned her hair and shook it out.

He felt big and awkward, almost an intruder, standing in the doorway of his own bedroom, but he found her presence so alluring that he couldn't tear himself away. "Would you undo me?" She asked, standing with some difficulty and meeting him halfway. As she turned, she looked over her shoulder at him and smiled. "Tim was fine, but I wanted to see you. I thought about you all night."

Oblivious to the bombshell that almost stopped Bobby in his tracks as he unzipped her, she stepped away and allowed the gown to drift to the floor, revealing a fitted black lace and satin slip with deep slits up the sides. She reached up under the hem and awkwardly stripped the stay-up stockings from her legs, and kicked them almost comically into a pile with the dress before crawling into his bed. She laid on her side with her hands folded under her cheek and smiled at him as she watched him pick up the dress and stockings and carefully shake them out before draping them over the back of the straight-backed chair in the corner.

_She was bra-less. Was she wearing panties? Oh God!_

**o.o.o.o.o**

It never occurred to Bobby to even offer to sleep on the sofa. No, she had been thinking of him, she'd come all this way to see him, he was going to stay here with her.

That seemed to be Alex's plan too, because when he crawled into be next to her, she rolled over to face him and took his hand. For a while they just rested quietly, looking at each other. He wanted to touch her smiling face, but he was too shy. When her eyes finally started to drift shut, he leaned back to turn the light off.

"Everything I want, everything I love is here," came her sleepy voice in the darkness.

"What?" He'd been close to nodding off, and he couldn't even be certain he'd heard her correctly. _Had she really said that?_

"That's what I was thinking, all night. On my date."

_Oh._

She didn't seem to expect an answer, which was good, because he had no idea what to say.

**o.o.o.o.o**

"Bobby?" She whispered. He had been lying quietly beside her, listening to her breathing and drinking in her presence. That she was here with him, enjoying him as he enjoyed her, he almost couldn't wrap his head around it. But yet, it felt so right. Normal, as if this was just another day in their happy life together. It was surreal.

"Yeah?"

"I've missed seeing you every day." She was still drunk, but her words had a ring of truth. They were like a key in a lock, and he feared that as it turned, something would burst open that would be wonderful but also overwhelming. He wished he could see her face. He needed to touch her, at least. So he reached out and easily drew her closer. She didn't resist – in fact, she seemed to welcome the gesture, and began to caress his chest and shoulders clumsily and innocently with both hands.

"Me too, Alex," he said with feeling. For a while they were still and silent, just enjoying each other; him with his hand on her waist and her fingering the stiff cotton of his tee. Up close, her scent told the story of her evening; her lovely fragrance, a heady blend of perfume and her own essence; sweat and a hint of smoke from wherever she spent her evening; lime, strawberries and tequila… _she must have spilled a bit of margarita on herself_… and the teasing tendrils of nascent arousal.

Alex's wistful, soft voice broke the silence again. "Would you like to try it? Seeing each other… every day?" He knew exactly what she meant. _Yes!_ was his emphatic answer, but he was so moved that he couldn't get the words out. She must have mistaken his silence for reluctance, because her next words were more hesitant. "I know I'm not your type, but – you love me, don't you?" Bobby allowed himself to envision the depth of feeling that prompted her words. Their hearts and souls had been reaching out hesitantly towards each other for _years_, but in the end it was her, courageous Alex, who had bridged the gap. With the help of liquid courage, yes, but still…

"Oh Alex." He leaned over and buried his face in the crook of her neck. This was not a romantic moment – that time would come when Alex was sober and they'd both had time to digest this. But he knew she was in earnest… the booze had loosened her tongue and led her on the path. To his door, his heart, and now, to his bed.

He laughed, eager to re-assure her. "Alex. You are my type, I just didn't realise it at first."

She sighed and nestled into his chest. "Me too."

"And I love you too," he added for good measure.

"Me too," she whispered.

For a few moments they were silent, just holding each other.

"And I absolutely would like to try it – seeing each other every day."

"And every night?" Her voice bubbled with laughter.

"Yes, yes, YES!"

Soon, they slept. They hadn't kissed, or even caressed each other intimately, but that time would come soon.

~.~.~.~.~

**A/N 2:** Smut coming next. There should just be one more chapter.


	2. DAMSEL IN DIS DRESS

**A/N 1:** Sorry this took so long. I had a horrible time convincing Goren to shut up and let Eames tell this part. On another note, a friend dropped me a link to a really cool song that KE sang backup on – it's by "Minus Ted", and you can find it on YouTube. The name is "Riding Towards Albany". It has a real CSNY sound. Chapter spoilers for: Loyalty (which I have now seen).

~.~.~.~.~

**CHAPTER TWO: DAMSEL IN DIS DRESS**

_Two weeks later…_

All evening, Bobby had been toying with the hem of her dress – the same one she'd worn _that night_ – and Alex knew from the look on his face that he was thinking of sticking his hand up her skirt right there in the restaurant.

Drunk dropping in at Bobby's place had been a terrible mistake. A terrible, horrible mistake that turned out amazing, actually. She hadn't been too drunk that night to know what she was doing; rather, just drunk enough to let herself feel (and act) like fate was in control.

She wasn't drunk tonight – far from it. Same with Bobby. His eyes were clear and warm as he casually leaned in to whisper in her ear to cover for brushing his knuckles across her knees as he clutched at a handful of red silk. It was the end of their meal, after a lovely evening out together. Their first serious 'date', after two weeks of casual get-togethers and cuddling on the sofa. They had not shared a bed again, although twice Bobby had come over in the middle of the night to tuck her in, and once she'd fallen asleep in the armchair by his bed while she'd stayed to watch him sleep.

"What was that?" he whispered.

She knew what he was referring to. The look she'd been giving him just now. It was a look she'd felt on her face many times recently. An inevitable, fatal softening. A look that said, _I can't resist you and I don't even want to. You can do anything you want with me – please don't let me screw this up. Please don't hurt me. Please don't wait any longer._

His fingers were playing across the tops of her shins. His right arm was tight across her shoulders. She'd already allowed herself to rest her cheek against his shoulder, encased in soft grey silk. He smelled wonderful… he was so warm. Heat radiated off him like a furnace. Of all the things she'd secretly imagined about being loved by Bobby Goren, the thing she'd never expected – being realistic, she thought – was that he wouldn't be able to keep his hands off her. She'd never experienced it in her life, with any man. She thought she never would. She just wasn't that kind of girl – the kind that inspired that kind of fervour.

The restaurant was quiet and dim, but still packed. Wait staff slid unobtrusively between the booths and tables. Bobby's hand traced the seam between her closed thighs. _He was about to finger her in public, at a dining establishment with no prices on the menus._ She felt the puff of air against her cheek as he grunted almost silently in anticipation. She let her knees fall open, and tilted her head back to see the look on his face when he felt her garter. She felt fate take charge again.

**o.o.o.o.o**

The morning he'd called to ask her out on their date, Alex had been lolling in bed daydreaming about him. Her awareness of his physical passion for her was almost as intoxicating as his confession of love, and to her pleasure and frustration, she found herself distractingly infatuated. Not to the exclusion of deeper feelings, but adding a gratifying, though agitating, buzz to the deep love that was already there.

"Ea – uh, Alex, I thought I could take you somewhere special Friday night, if, um, if you're free, and if you'd like?" His voice sounded soft and romantic over the phone. She smirked, even as she stretched sensuously and cuddled deeper into the bedding.

"Sure, sounds good. I just got a new dress, too."

"The red one?" He sounded earnest and hopeful.

She was glad they weren't in the same room, because she couldn't stop grinning. "What, that old thing? No way!"

"But, uh…" This was going to be fun.

"Bobby. A) You've already seen it."

"That's OK. I…"

"B) I wore it out on a date with ANOTHER MAN. As in, not you!" Which was actually part of his obsession, she fully realised.

"Alex, I don't…"

"And C) It's sweaty and smoky from that evening."

"So, dry clean it!"

Actually, she already had.

**o.o.o.o.o**

He'd surprised her with their first kiss, the morning after her drunken confession. She'd awoken cosy and comfortable and only a little bit hung over, surrounded by a scent that felt strangely like home. A warm, soft hand caressed her from wrist to throat, stroking her as if her skin were a bolt of satin, smoothing it and smoothing it.

She remembered feeling groggy and surreal. She'd kept her eyes closed at first, filled with dread and hope. Was she really there, with Bobby, in his bed? Or had her mind ret-conned her hazy memories of the previous evening to cover for an unfortunate dalliance with her date?

She felt lips brush whispersoft across her forehead. The body that enveloped her was twitching restlessly. _Bobby_. She finally opened her eyes.

Her former partner had been smiling, even as he seemed to scan her face for evidence of amnesia or second thoughts. He must have found none, for he swept in and gently touched his lips to hers.

It was electric. She'd felt her lips parting of their own accord even as he pressed her into the mattress. It should have felt perilous, suffocating – but instead she was exhilarated. His mouth was soft and warm, and the scrape of his whiskers felt like a blessing. He kept his eyes open, as did she, and the look she saw there was one of profound sincerity and love. His body, including his somewhat intimidating erection, was firm and strong and she felt herself surrendering to him fully – not so much her body, which she knew instinctively he would forgo breaching for now – but her heart and, if she were honest with herself, her life.

She'd long resisted yoking herself to him in the conventional way, and her pride had been at fault. Not because she feared people looking down on her for loving 'the whack job', but rather because she feared people looking down on her for falling for the most charming manipulator on the force. Her reluctance had been worn away of late, in no small part due to the many people in her life (Declan Gage and Chief Moran among them) who thought she'd already fallen.

She'd sighed as she kissed him back, and when she finally turned her face away wrapped her arms tightly around his neck to grant herself a small respite from the intensity of their first encounter, he whispered, "I'm very serious about you, Eames. I'm ready for this."

"Me too," she replied.

**o.o.o.o.o**

Her sister had called later to find out how the date with Tim went. "It was fine. He was fine." It was late morning, and Bobby had driven her home after a light breakfast that she could barely eat for nerves and arousal, and then had held her hand almost the whole drive, his face when he looked at her suffused with a mixture of love, lust, pride and incredulity. She was now on the sofa, freshly showered, her immortal red dress in the drycleaning hamper.

"And?"

Alex sighed. "And, I won't be seeing him again."

"You won't." Her sister's voice was flat and disapproving.

"Nope."

"Why."

Alex sighed again while she thought for a second. She could give Liz the brush-off. Or, she could just bite the bullet and tell the truth. "Because, I'm in love with Bobby." _It felt really, really good to say that._ _Now in other matchmaking news, shit… meet fan._

"Bobby? Goren?"

"Yup."

"Your partner Bobby Goren?"

"Not any more."

"But…"

"No buts, not this time. It's been a long time coming, Liz, and we're both going to work our asses off to see that it stays. Don't bother setting me up with any other guys, OK? And please… try to be happy for me."

**o.o.o.o.o**

Alex felt a grin bubble up from her chest and bloom on her face. Bobby's gentle, assertive caresses to her knees and higher –_ who knew that having her knees touched would be such a turn-on? Oh, yeah, Bobby _– plucked at the tendrils of arousal that had been encircling her all evening, but his look when he touched the tops of her stockings was nothing if not priceless.

He hooked two fingers under one of her garters – _no stay-ups tonight!_ – and expelled an almost _Homer Simpson_-esque huff of confusion. She closed her eyes briefly. Nobody should be that cute; it gave him an extremely unfair advantage. Scared her a bit, actually, always had. One of the reasons she'd been so stoic during their partnership was because her pride had recognised the grave danger of his irresistible adorableness. She'd never allowed herself to fall for anyone that charming. Or rather, she thought she never had.

But it was too late now. She'd fallen too far and too hard, and there was nothing to do but surrender to it. Well, surrender yeah, but not completely. Hence the garters. He was going to have to work for it.

**o.o.o.o.o**

"I didn't think you'd wear it."

He'd shown up at her door looking absolutely delectable in a grey silk suit and periwinkle blue silk shirt. His black and silver houndstooth tie was one she'd given him. But how he looked was eclipsed by how he was looking… at her. Hunger, anticipation, determination – his face was a road map to his feelings, and the signs were making her stomach do flip-flops.

"Of course I'm wearing it. You have something to prove to this dress – far be it from me to stand in your way."

"So you're not going to stand in my way, huh? You could have fooled me." He loomed over her and began to nudge her with his chest into her apartment and towards the sofa. Pushing back proved ineffectual, and she soon found herself horizontal with 260lbs of delicious, impatient man bearing down on her. Her legs parted of their own accord and he settled between them, burying his face in her cleavage. She let out a groan of lust and embarrassment as she involuntarily flexed her pelvis against his thigh.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered, "Bobby. Let's just stay in tonight."

"No way. We're going out, then we're going to my place."

**o.o.o.o.o**

Bobby had his eyes glued to her literally all night, and she could barely tear her gaze away from him. They were both aware of the attention of the staff and many of the customers, their affection was so apparent.

Alex laughed. "What?" He asked.

She leaned in to whisper. "The waiters. They're looking at us like they're expecting you to roll a meatball onto my plate with your nose."

Bobby looked quizzically at her.

"Lady and the Tramp." He still looked confused. "The spaghetti scene, behind the Italian restaurant? The Disney movie about the two dogs."

"Oh," he laughed sheepishly. "Actually, in authentic Italian cooking, the meatballs are always served on the side, and they're a lot bigger. I probably couldn't have rolled it…" She interrupted him with a kiss.

She discovered that the bulge in his suit pocket was his camera, which he'd brought for the purpose of having the wait staff chronicle the progression of their evening. "This is more fuss than my family made when I graduated," she quipped self-consciously.

He looked at her seriously. "This is the most important night of my life so far, Alex. I don't want to forget a second of it."

He asked her hesitantly if he could kiss her.

"Bobby, I'm yours. You can do anything you want with me." And she meant it. Propriety took a distant second place to making sure this man knew just how far she'd go to prove she was his.

**o.o.o.o.o**

When his hand met the line of her panties and slipped inside, his face turned soft and sensual. She couldn't believe that she was about to hit second base, with Bobby of all people, in a crowded restaurant! As if he'd read her mind, he leaned in close and whispered, "I can't believe you're letting me – touch your pussy – in front of all these people."

"As if I could stop you," she murmured, her voice coming off less snarky and more breathless with anticipation than she would have liked.

"Are you ready for this, Alex?" He asked, circling her plump mound with two fingers. His breathing was sharp and shallow, and his whole body felt tense like a coiled spring.

"Yes," she breathed. Bobby bent to touch his forehead to hers, and stared into her eyes with almost disconcerting intensity as he brought her off.

To anyone who happened to glance at them, they would seem merely like a couple in love sharing an intimate moment. They'd never know how right they were… Alex leaned heavily against him as he dipped his fingers in the juices that had pooled at the juncture of her nether lips. His fingers barely moved as he probed her, gently circling her clit and caressing the swollen flesh that surrounded it. As he began to rhythmically brush her with the tips of his fingers, she whimpered as her climax began to unfurl from the base of her spine.

A distant part of her psyche shouted that he was doing this to her, in public, because he needed to lay claim to her, to prove to himself that she really belonged to him; she didn't care. Her days of rebuffing him out of stubborn pride were over. She couldn't deny that the situation aroused her – not the exhibitionist element, particularly – but rather Bobby's urgency, his irresistible craving to touch and please her. She accepted the fact that belonging to Robert Goren meant allowing herself to be played.

Bobby's fingers barely moved as he caressed her, but she was so moist and swollen that it was enough. She felt almost unbearably exposed, with her legs parted and her skirt ruched up around her thighs, this huge man looming over her, owning her like a demon from a virginal nightmare. Her body momentarily resisted succumbing to his ministrations, and Bobby seemed to sense it, because he brushed his slick digits deliberately across her clit.

His eyes continued to bore into hers even as she trembled and quietly gasped through her release, and only when Alex slumped bonelessly into him, trying to discreetly regain her breath, did his body and expression ease. He smiled at her gently and kissed her forehead, then straightened with a cocky smirk. The look on his face said, _I bet loverboy never did that to you. You never would have even let him try._

And she wordlessly replied, _Of course not. Doesn't make you any less of a jackass though._

And his face said, _I know._

**o.o.o.o.o**

As they dawdled over dessert and coffee, Alex was quiet and lissome in the thrall of her afterglow, but Bobby was restless.

She decided to put him out of his misery. "I'm ready to go, are you?"

He looked at her gratefully and jumped out of his seat. "I'll just grab your coat and, um, take care of the bill… you OK here for a few minutes?"

She smiled at him. "Yup. But hurry back."

"I will," he murmured, grinning boyishly.

They were all over each other the second they got to his apartment. His mouth on hers, Bobby began walking Alex backwards towards his bedroom, then gave up and hoisted her bodily over his shoulder, tossing her onto his bed where she landed with a bounce.

At first charmed by his eagerness, she remained happily horizontal as he rushed to divest himself of his jacket, tie and shoes. In his trousers and shirtsleeves, he settled himself beside her on the bed and buried his face in the crook of her neck. "You smell good," he murmured, before locking his lips onto her tender skin and sucking gently.

"Mmmm, so do you," she managed to grind out, almost speechless with arousal. After a few moments he withdrew and she thrilled at his flushed face, moist lips and glazed look. _I did that_, she thought with satisfaction as she began unfastening his shirt. At first, when instead of reciprocating, he merely played with her hem as he had at the restaurant, she thought he was just being a gentleman. But when he slipped his hand under her skirt and began unfastening her garters sight unseen, she had a sneaking suspicion. Alex sat up and pushed him gently off her, narrowing her eyes.

"Bobby. I'm not having sex with you wearing this dress." She knelt on the bed and, looking pointedly over her shoulder, presented the back of her gown to him to be unfastened.

Her suspicions were confirmed when his face fell. "Not ever?"

She smirked as he began to unzip her. "Not tonight."

~.~.~.~.~

**A/N 2:** Pleeeeeease review! Reviews keep me young and supple! Also, sorry for breaking my promise about the smex. Next chapter, I promise (and I mean it this time!). Goren and Eames just really wanted you guys to know how things went between then and now.

WORDS: 3041 UPLOADED Sunday, June 27, 2010


	3. MAGNUM OPUS

**A/N 1:** One reviewer would love for this fic to be turned into a 'double-digit chapters' endeavour… no promises, but I will say that I'm bubbling with ideas for post-Loyalty canon fics with plot, and I'm not as intimidated by long fics and casefiles as I used to be.

~.~.~.~.~

**CHAPTER THREE: MAGNUM OPUS**

He really hadn't intended to have sex with Eames in her dress. Really.

But he did privately admit to indulging frequently in a fantasy the past two weeks, wherein, after a perfect romantic evening (kind of like tonight), he'd lie her down on her tummy on his big bed, strip bare while she wriggled helplessly in place, reach under her skirt to remove her panties (and garter, as he learnt tonight), then eat her out and toss her salad until she begged him to stop, undo her zipper with his teeth, and grind her into the mattress from behind, whispering, as he emptied himself into her, every sacred and profane thing within his heart and mind.

But this was good too.

She was smirking at him as he slowly drew her zipper down to her tiny waist. He loved that look. It was that look that captivated him first, years ago… even before he loved her. It was a look that said, _I know you!_

_And you're still here!_ He sang back silently.

She was wearing the same slip. It would be a challenge to get off, it fit her like a glove, and no zipper! His fingers tingled in anticipation, thinking of her unbound breasts cupped in the shapely black satin.

Bobby wasn't totally clueless… he knew what she was doing. She'd purposely dressed this way for him just because she knew he needed it. But she was also teasing him.

"I was surprised that you let me… touch you like that, earlier." Alex's skin was so smooth and soft, so touchable. Bobby pushed the dress off her shoulders and brushed his lips across the rosy, satiny flesh.

"I know." Her husky, musical voice went straight to his groin, and when he shifted behind her to ease himself, she laughed.

"Know that I'm surprised, or know that… that I was going to do it?"

"Both," she said mirthfully.

"Then why did you wear panties?" He whispered close, gratified by her soft gasp and shiver. He gently ran his hands up under and around her breasts. He hadn't yet touched them, loving too much the anticipation he knew she felt as much as he. As his warm fingers edged closer and closer to her soft mounds, he delighted to feel her mewl and squirm like a kitten under his touch. They were still both seated on his bed; it should have felt awkward, but it didn't. He allowed his lips to part as he drew them across her shoulders and the nape of her neck; she tasted sweet and salty.

"I thought if I went commando I'd give you a heart attack," she groused. "And you're too heavy to carry."

Bobby grunted. "Thank you for thinking of me," he said with unaccustomed humour.

"I think of little else, lately," she ground out.

**o.o.o.o.o**

Goren's eyes drifted shut as he paused to take stock of the smell and feel of her. The same sweat and perfume as two weeks ago, but no smoke, and no margarita. Arousal, but tonight much stronger than before. He held his hands still just beneath her breasts, and rested his lips on her bare shoulder. He felt her hair against his forehead as she arched against him, whining as she tried to manoeuvre the sensitive mounds into his hands.

He laughed gently, delighted and flattered by her eagerness. He felt the mixture of emotion and lust blend and spread behind his eyes, down his spine and through his groin and chest. His throat tightened as he reflected on the intensity of her responses, the effort she'd gone to to please and arouse him, how she'd surrendered herself to his need at the restaurant. She was his… she really had given herself to him. After all their years together, all the people and events and moments of self-destructiveness that could have pulled them apart, here she was. In his bed, ready and willing. It was a huge moment, a huge responsibility.

Goren was suddenly insecure, uncertain. Was this right for her? Was it too soon? "Alex…" he said hesitantly.

Like that, the mood was broken. She turned, a wounded look on her face. "Have you changed your mind?" She asked plaintively, her voice still husky with arousal. She was so tiny and vulnerable in his arms, with her dress undone and around her waist, her hair a mess, and her nipples like pebbles against the satin of her slip's bodice. He hastened to reassure her.

"God no. Alex!" He squeezed her waist and ran his hands up and down her arms. The words seemed to stick in his throat – he _couldn't_ screw this up! "I just – wanted to make sure, that – you're ready for this."

She got up on her knees and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I'm _really_ ready for this, Bobby," she whispered against his lips before kissing him deeply as she pulled them both down onto his big bed.

Still in her cute heels and with her dress undone, Alex was the picture of wanton elegance. Determined to do this night right, Goren tried unsuccessfully to untangle himself from her limb by limb, first prying one strong calf from around his thigh, then unlooping an arm from his neck. All the while she offered the most irresistible distractions, feverishly working on the buttons of his shirt while nibbling and sucking his throat and whispering the most filthy, wonderful things.

"Alex," he murmured, "Alex… Alex!" he finally boomed, in the authoritative voice he used to reserve for mis-behaving suspects. In his future, he envisioned having to roll it out on a regular basis to tame the vixen that apparently lurked behind the cool façade of his beloved erstwhile partner.

Startled, said beloved unhanded him with alacrity and unstuck her lips from his throat, giving him a look that was disconcertingly, coquettishly lustful. The thought that this woman, so strong and together, had submissive tendencies made his prick twitch in anticipation.

He levered himself reluctantly off her and exited the bed, unfastening his cufflinks. "Sit up," he ordered gruffly, "And don't move." He watched her out of the corner of his eye as he lit candles and ran them two glasses of cold water for after; she almost bounced up onto her little bottom, primly fluffing and smoothing her dishevelled gown like a depraved china doll, then playfully kicking his coverlet with her Mary-Janes and regarding him from beneath her lashes.

**o.o.o.o.o**

Still in his partly-unfastened shirtsleeves, Goren nipped to his front door to retrieve the jewelled clutch that Alex had dropped when he swept her over his shoulder earlier. Plopping it onto the same bedside table where she'd placed it two weeks ago, he motioned for her to turn around on the bed, then sat himself close behind her and folded her into his embrace.

"What's the holdup, Goren," Alex asked a bit grumpily, leaning her head back against his shoulder and trying her best to guide his big hands towards her breasts.

He was having none of it. "We only get one first time, Eames," he said, "I just want to do this right." He pulled her hands behind her head and kissed them as he spoke.

"Well I don't think we could do it _wrong_, could we?" She smiled at him over her shoulder, her good humour restored.

"I don't intend to find out," he whispered. "Now, sit up straight."

Alex instantly straightened her spine and shoulders and stuck out her chin, her only evidence of apprehension or anticipation in her quietly-held breath. Gently and deliberately, while sitting behind her on the bed, Goren repeated the ritual that Alex had played out by his bedside that first night. He grasped her wrist and unclasped the sparkling tennis bracelet, depositing it in the satin inner pocket of her clutch. Then he carefully unfastened and removed her diamond studs, affixing the backs of the ear-rings before putting them away. He gently took down her hair, unhooking the sparkling clips and pulling out the pins. When he reached for the pendant at her throat – the one he himself had given her after she returned to him from the nightmare of Jo Gage – she put her hand over his and said, "Oh no, I never – I mean, leave that on."

Smiling at her revealing slip, he leaned in and murmured, "I think you should take it off tonight." At her almost imperceptible nod, he undid the chain and carefully wound the delicate filaments around his finger, then changed his mind and looped it over his lampshade. "I don't want it to get tangled," he said.

He couldn't resist it: teasing her, and also probing her for information he knew was none of his business but he couldn't live without knowing. "So you never take it off?" he asked. The slight incline and twitch of her head was his answer. "Wouldn't you be afraid of… breaking that fragile chain? I mean, when you…" He let the question trail off.

She tossed her head in the way she did when she was irritated and embarrassed, and he knew what he had been dying to know. "No," she said mulishly, huffing and trying half-heartedly to squirm out of his arms.

He decided not to press it. Tonight was not only about knowing, but about being known. "I haven't been with – a woman – for, well, more than three years," he said in a hushed voice.

"Is that why you're afraid of doing it wrong?" she asked, chuckling.

"Ha ha," he said good-naturedly, tickling her and grinning as she squealed.

"Same for me," she finally whispered.

"I know," he said.

**o.o.o.o.o**

She sighed and arched against him as he caressed her breasts, gently squeezing and kneading them, and tweaking her nipples through the satiny fabric.

They were still sitting in the middle of his big bed. They'd whispered and teased each other with words and touches, enjoying the tension and sensuality. When Alex began to hold her breath for so long that Goren got concerned, he finally relented and moved his hot, long, strong fingers and palms across her bust. The response was electric – for both of them. She released her breath in a guttural cry that spoke of so much more than just his simple caresses. It was the sound of ten years of love and hope and anguish, and Goren responded with both his heart and his body.

He had deeply enjoyed his physical relationships with women; the same way he enjoyed fine food and wine. But he'd never allowed himself to truly hunger, or thirst. What he was feeling now was so different… Sex for him had been a pleasurable game; this was a life or death struggle to give and receive. Alex loved to have her breasts touched, and that knowledge turned Goren on so much he was afraid he was going to cum in his shorts.

But why not? In his past encounters, the evenings had followed a closely-adhered-to progression: kissing, petting, clothes off, more petting, underwear off, cunnilingus, then intercourse, although not always. If the lady seemed a little too tipsy or intimidated, he demurred, and with no complaints. With Alex, there was no rulebook, and the thought of losing it like a teenager didn't embarrass him… tonight, _tonight_, he finally knew what it was to be hungry, and it wasn't only about Alex's satisfaction, he craved to please himself too.

"Bobby," she croaked, rubbing her bottom against his groin, "Remember how you touched me in the restaurant?" She was panting like she'd just run a marathon, and Goren felt about ready to burst.

"Hell yeah," he said, pulling down the straps of her slip so he could tweak and tease her skin to skin.

She took his left hand in both of hers and pulled it down into her lap. She didn't need to say it. _Do it again._ But she did. "Do it again. Please."

_Again_? He'd wanted very much to taste her next, but how could he say no? As he gathered up her skirt, she turned and kissed his parted lips.

When his fingers touched her panties, he huffed into her mouth in surprise. He couldn't believe how wet his Alex was. "Oh Christ, Alex, this is just, from…" touching her breasts. Just from touching her breasts.

He had a flash forward to the future: waking up horny in the middle of the night, teasing and touching Alex's breasts until she whined, and nudging into her to find his satisfaction, and hers. He'd never before allowed himself to see a woman as an instrument of his pleasure; but this was Alex. She was _his_. She belonged to him, she'd given herself to _him_.

And right now his girl, his woman, was moaning and bucking in his arms like a wild animal. He felt the inside of his mouth echo and hum with the sounds she was trying to make as his right hand slid back and forth over her bust, and his left fingers slipped awkwardly between her unbelievably plump, wet folds. She was thrusting her little tongue in his mouth in the same rhythm he'd used to get her off earlier, and when his caresses on and around her sensitised nub brought her to a loud and wild climax, he did feel the inevitable happen, as he found his own (only partly unwelcome) release.

**o.o.o.o.o**

The next part of their evening was slightly anti-climactic. After a couple of minutes of enjoying their recent bliss, Alex commanded that he undress her, which he did, with more speed than finesse. Then, blithely unconcerned about her nudity, she turned and undressed _him_, peppering every inch of exposed skin with chaste, if somewhat wet and sloppy kisses. Goren was thoroughly charmed. When she got to his shorts, she removed them without comment; she seemed neither disappointed nor surprised.

Allowing her to draw him down onto the bed against her (because apparently post-coital Eames craved skin-to-skin contact… was this post-coital? Goren decided that it was), he happily surrendered to her evident desire to be kissed deeply, enjoying the feeling of her soft, strong body as she rubbed it against him, his spent (and still sticky) erection softening against her belly.

"Are you going to fuck me later?" she asked huskily, her voice almost unfairly sexy.

"Oh, I expect so, Eames," he replied, groaning as she took him in her little hand.

A prediction which turned out to be true.

When their bodies finally joined, Goren learned several things. He learnt what it felt like to be a stallion, with Alex's heels digging into his flanks, spurring him deeper into her slick, swollen channel. He learnt what it felt like to be a contortionist, curving his spine into a 'C' so that he could kiss the tiny woman beneath him as he thrust. And he learnt that true satisfaction, as he felt when he spilled himself into her still-pulsing walls, came only after true hunger.

**o.o.o.o.o**

Later, they whispered to each other in the soft darkness, just as they had that first night.

"Wearing that pendant made me feel… like I belonged to you," she said sleepily. "Like you'd pinned me. I couldn't take it off, but I couldn't let any man touch me when I was wearing it."

"That was the plan, Eames." He felt himself drifting, then heard her soft voice.

"You and your plans, Goren."

"This one was my _Magnum Opus._"

She giggled. "Whatever you say, bigfoot."

He sputtered in indignation. "That's, that's not what I meant!"

She laughed again. "I know. And like so many great works, it took years to perfect."

"And like so many great works, it'll be around for a long, long time."

"Bravissimo!" She applauded one-handed, patting his still-ample belly.

And with that, they slept.

~.~.~.~.~

**A/N 2:** I was in such a hurry to post the last chapter that I forgot to give props to Scripted Scarlet and her amazing fic _Intercession_, from which I think I cribbed a line or two in Chapter 2. And maybe, Chapter 3. Also, search for the _Lady and the Tramp_ scene on YouTube – look for _Bella Notte_ and you'll find it... it's so cute! And the music is actually a great soundtrack to Chapter 2.

_**Please, please review! I'm a hummingbird and reviews are like sugar to me!**_

WORDS: 2853 UPLOADED Wednesday, July 21, 2010


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